All We Know Is Falling
by summerlites
Summary: What might have happened if a few new friends had thrust Hermione and Draco into similar circles? Forced to be civil to and constantly thrust together, might enmity have turned to tolerance, tolerance to friendship, and friendship to something more?


Disclaimer: All canon HP characters and storylines are property of the amazingly talented J.K. Rowling. Jane Austen is the author of Pride and Prejudice, on which this fic will be very, VERY loosely based.

Chapter One disclaimer: The following passage is quoted from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, written by J.K. Rowling.

"It was Hermione.

But she didn't look like Hermione at all. She had done something with her hair; it was no longer bushy but sleek and shiny, and twisted up into an elegant knot at the back of her head. She was wearing robes made of a floaty, periwinkle-blue material, and she was holding herself differently, somehow – or maybe it was merely the absence of the twenty or so book she usually had slung over her back. She was also smiling – rather nervously, it was true …

Parvati was gazing at Hermione in unflattering disbelief. She wasn't the only one either…Pansy Parkinson gaped at her as she walked by with Malfoy, and even he didn't seem to be able to find an insult to throw at her…" (GoF, page 414)

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"I'd have thought you'd want to stay at Durmstrang, seeing as how you went through all the trouble to get sent there," were the first, less-than-welcoming words out of Draco's mouth. But Chaz understood – they'd certainly known each other long enough.

"What, and miss out on catching up with my old friend? Never," he replied good-naturedly, pushing back his dark brown hair with one hand and offering Draco the other. He knew Draco had never gotten over the disappointment of not getting what he wanted for once in his life. No amount of begging, demanding, or pleading had done any good.

"Hogwarts was good enough for me, and it's good enough for you," Lucius Malfoy had snarled at his son, his already scant patience worn thin by the never-ending haranguing. He'd finished fastening his cloak jerkily and strode out of the room, muttering; Draco had made out the words "ungrateful" and "spoiled" and decided to give his mother a try instead.

"It's much too far away, darling," Narcissa had told him calmly, pinning her hair neatly in the mirror while Draco threw a temper tantrum on the floor.

"Do get up, that's not becoming. And besides, how will I be able to send you sweets and the like? They'll have spoiled before they reach you, and you'll be perfectly desolate," she'd soothed him, shrugging on her priciest furs as she rose from her vanity.

"Do you _promise_ you'll send me sweets?" Draco had stopped his histrionics at the mention of sweets; Narcissa knew her son's weakness well.

"Of course," she'd replied, sounding rather relieved he seemed to finally be giving up, "every week, I promise. Now behave for Miss Grey, will you?" She glided gracefully out the door after his father, not waiting for his answering promise. And so a minor Hogwarts tradition was born, though Chaz was the only person outside of the Malfoys to know the truth about how it had started.

"As though you hadn't just spent half the summer with me, Rosier," Draco retorted, and Chaz had to laugh. Draco led Chaz to the Slytherin table with a rather smug smile at the other Hogwarts students, who seemed to be awed at the fact that he was on such close terms with one of their "foreign" visitors. The rest of the Durmstrang students followed, rather nervous and confused at being in a new environment. The whole thing seemed to put Draco in a marginally better mood.

"Don't be difficult," Chaz replied. "I'm honestly curious about Hogwarts. What am I missing out on?"

"Not much," Draco muttered, but Chaz pretended not to hear.

"What are the girls like? They're a sorry lot at Durmstrang, but I've already seen a few pretty ones here," he noted, looking down the long row of tables which belonged to Slytherin.

"Obviously," Draco quipped in an uncanny imitation of his favorite teacher. Chaz merely shrugged.

"Pass the butter, will you?" he asked, and then other students started to forget their nervousness in the face of their hunger, and began to chime into the conversation.

-----

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," Hermione apologized loudly, obviously flustered, to the round-eyed girl she'd accidentally bumped into.

"It's no problem, I assure you," the girl shouted back with a kind smile. "It's quite crowded in here."

"Yeah, I was just about to head outside for a bit of fresh air," Hermione explained, continuing to shout over the blaring music. "It's getting awfully warm as well, with all these people."

"I couldn't agree more," responded the girl. "I think I'll head out too, as a matter of fact." She smiled amiably at Hermione and offered her hand, which Hermione politely shook.

"My name is Jeanine Baudelaire, I'm from Beauxbatons."

"Hermione Granger, Hogwarts. The courtyard's this way," she added, nodding in the general direction.

"This is much better," Jeanine declared as the doors to the Great Hall closed behind them. The sudden absence of the babble of hundreds of students accompanied by a thumping bass line left both girls' ears ringing faintly.

"Definitely," Hermione agreed, fanning herself. The flawless updo she had painstakingly styled was beginning to unravel, curled tendrils escaping the confines of their bobby pins and sticking themselves to the nape of her neck. Her cheeks were flushed with exertion and happiness – Hermione had been having the time of her life.

"So, Jeanine," Hermione started as they made their way through the entrance hall, "I can't help but notice that your English is quite good. Are you from France originally?"

"Oh, yes, but you see, I'm only half French. My mum was born in London and her family decided to relocate to France after You-Know-Who rose to power. There was an unfortunate incident – my mother's older brothers were murdered by Death Eaters."

At this, Hermione gasped sympathetically.

"Oh, no! That's terrible, I'm so sorry," she apologized, feeling that she had pried too much.

"It's ok," Jeanine replied matter-of-factly, "you didn't know and besides, that was all before I was even born. I never knew my uncles. Anyway, my family took a liking to France, and decided to stay even after You-Know-Who was defeated. My mum and my father met, fell in love, married and well, the rest is history, as they say."

By now, the two girls had reached their destination, and they both stood a moment in awe of the magical decorations. Live fairies lit the courtyard with soft, fluttering light, and rosebushes had been added, their gold leaves and cherry-red petals a tasteful nod to the holiday season.

"Wow, that's a pretty exciting story," Hermione replied after admiring the décor for a moment.

"My parents are dentists," she added with a laugh, "not very exciting."

"Your parents are what?" Jeanine asked, confused.

"They're _Muggles_," a voice answered derisively. Following his words, Draco Malfoy walked out of a shadowy corner of the courtyard, Pansy Parkinson firmly in tow (her lipstick looking rather smudged).

"She didn't ask you, Malfoy," Hermione spat defensively, glaring at the unwelcome intruders.

"Well, I figured that this poor, unsuspecting girl would like to know what kind of _filth_ she's associating herself with, for one. And your conversation was rather interrupting us, for another," he added, sharing a smirk with Pansy that made Hermione look like she was about to be sick.

"I assure you, we didn't mean to interrupt anything," Jeanine apologized. "We only came out for a bit of air. And I don't have any animosity towards Muggle-borns at all," she added, flashing Hermione a kind smile.

The three Hogwarts students gaped at Jeanine for a moment, nonplussed by her sincerely polite yet frank words.

"I'm actually rather fascinated by them. How is it that you come by magical powers without any sort of Wizarding ancestry at all? It seems like it's all up to chance, how some Muggles give birth to witches and wizards, and yet some witches and wizards have squibs – or Muggles, if you really look at it," she continued, apparently unaware of the sensational nature of her pronouncement.

"Er – yes, I don't how that quite works out," Hermione finally replied, feeling the need to end this awkward moment. "Jeanine, I'm quite cooled off now – why don't we head back inside? Viktor's probably looking for me by now," she added, grasping Jeanine by the elbow and steering her rather forcefully back inside the castle.

"Not Viktor _Krum_, surely?" Jeanine gasped, amazed.

"The very same," Hermione replied with a smile. "I can introduce you, if you'd like," she added.

"I would _love_ that!" Jeanine exclaimed, beaming. She practically dragged Hermione back into the Great Hall, jabbering away like they were old friends. Hermione struggled to answer all of Jeanine's rapid-fire questions, but was nonetheless enjoying herself. Other than Ginny Weasley, Hermione wasn't very close with other girls near her age, and she rather enjoyed the change.

"Say, you wouldn't happen to know _Harry Potter_, would you?" Jeanine asked, wide-eyed.

"Maybe," Hermione replied, smiling mischievously at Jeanine, and they made their way once more through the crowd.

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"What a _strange_ girl," Pansy proclaimed haughtily as the Hermione and Jeanine faded out of sight.

"I would ask who in their right mind would actually _want_ to be friends with Granger, but I doubt that Beauxbatons girl was in her right mind, anyway," Draco agreed. "It's a shame so many purebloods have lowered themselves by hanging around with scum like that Mudblood. No one has any respect for the old ways anymore."

Just then, a rather noisy group of Hufflepuffs descended upon the courtyard, much to Pansy and Draco's shared dismay.

"There's no place to be alone in this castle!" Pansy hissed at Draco, looking thoroughly displeased.

"Not tonight, anyway – too many students roaming around," Draco complained, shooting a dirty look at the newly-arrived group, who were too busy chattering away to take any notice.

"Let's just go back inside," Pansy suggested, disappointment etched clearly across her face.

"There'll be other nights," Draco assured her, leading the way back inside the castle.

"Other nights for what, exactly?" Chaz asked, appearing at Draco's shoulder with a sly smile. Pansy, who was not overly fond of the rather showy Chaz, disappeared into the crowd to go to the bathroom, or get a drink, or whatever. No one took any notice.

"Never you mind," Draco replied, flustered. He then caught a glimpse of Chaz's date for the evening, a graceful-looking girl with waist-length shining hair and a pretty face; she was at least a year or two above them.

"How is it that you're here barely three months, and you manage to snatch up the best-looking girl here?" Draco hissed into Chaz' ear, rather annoyed. He like Pansy well enough, but she was only okay – not really anything special.

"You really need to learn how to broaden your horizons," Chaz replied, winking at the Beauxbatons girl he'd asked out. With some difficulty, it was true – she didn't speak very much English and had a needlessly tedious French name he couldn't pronounce and didn't care enough to remember.

"If you think I would ask out some airheaded Frenchie…" Draco started, too loudly, but the girl in question knew enough English for that, and threw him a witheringly dirty look.

"There's no need to insult our special guests," Chaz admonished, smiling blandly at the girl, and Draco looked away in a huff as the pair of them started being sickeningly cute with each other.

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"There you are!" Chaz exclaimed, laying his hand on his date's shoulder. The girl spun around to face him and immediately he realized his mistake. She didn't look the least bit upset, though, especially once she got an eyeful of Chaz's dark good looks and shockingly blue eyes.

"Here I am," she replied with a smile at his blunder. "Are you quite sure I'm who you were looking for, though?" She moved away from the drink table to make more room for the jostling crowd, and he followed her to a slightly calmer corner to explain the misunderstanding.

"Er…no," he admitted, blushing. "I thought you were someone else. But please, I didn't mean to be rude – what's your name? I'm Charles Rosier – most people just call me Chaz."

"I'm Jeanine Baudelaire," she replied, "just Jeanine."

"Pleased to meet you, Jeanine," he responded, trying out her name and finding that he rather liked it. Any idea of finding Iphigenie, his date, flew from his mind as he found himself intrigued by the quality of wisdom and yet humor in her large, gray eyes.

Chaz was far from alone in his immediate attraction. It was like some kind of ancient magic, the way they were drawn to each other so instantaneously. Like a moth to flame, Hermione would tell Jeanine later, and she had to agree. Once the two had met, there was no turning back.

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**A/N:**

I would just like to thank my friend, Rosy, for being so supportive and giving good advice. This is a reworking of the first chapter; the story originally began with the scene where Hermione met Jeanine, but I feel it works a bit better this way. I hope you all agree, and if not, I'm quite open to using a beta and getting some outside opinions, so feel free to contact me.

This is my first fic so please have patience with me! I do intend to see this story through, although I'm sure I'll have my moments where I want to just give up -- I'm a junior in college and I do a bunch of extracurricular stuff so feel free to yell at me if I take too long between updates, haha.


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